


I Can't

by ZeRealPlagueDoc



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27336181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeRealPlagueDoc/pseuds/ZeRealPlagueDoc
Summary: You watch as Cole smashes the doll to bits. Greta is on the ground sobbing. Malcolm is standing off the side, surprise covering his face. Cole… Cole’s face has a smug look to it like he was proud of what he had just done. You are standing in the doorway, staring blankly at Cole. Greta had put you in charge of the doll after Malcolm started to take her out. In a way, you have grown close to the doll, and the fact that it was now destroyed left an emptiness in your chest. Why? You did not know. Greta called the doll creepy and unsettling on many occasions, and now she was sobbing, saying she was sorry to Brahms. The only reason she is apologizing now is that she is scared of Cole and the fact that Brahms started to scare her. She told you that he terrorized her on the phone.
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire & Reader, Brahms Heelshire & You, Brahms Heelshire/Original Male Character(s), Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You, Greta Evans & Malcolm, Greta Evans/Malcolm
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	I Can't

You watch as Cole smashes the doll to bits. Greta is on the ground sobbing. Malcolm is standing off the side, surprise covering his face. Cole… Cole’s face has a smug look to it like he was proud of what he had just done. You are standing in the doorway, staring blankly at Cole. Greta had put you in charge of the doll after Malcolm started to take her out. In a way, you have grown close to the doll, and the fact that it was now destroyed left an emptiness in your chest. Why? You did not know. Greta called the doll creepy and unsettling on many occasions, and now she was sobbing, saying she was sorry to Brahms. The only reason she is apologizing now is that she is scared of Cole and the fact that Brahms started to scare her. She told you that he terrorized her on the phone.

Banging starts to happen all in the walls; pictures shake and sway and lights flicker before it all comes to a stop behind the large mirror. Cole, who had frozen up when all this started to happen, approaches the mirror and leans his ear against it, listening for something. “I think there’s some-” He starts to say before the mirror explodes into shards of glass. There is silence before you hear someone calling out to you.

“[Redacted]..? [Redacted]...” The childlike voice sounds familiar, so very familiar. You watch as a dirty hand places itself on the wall, helping a body slowly come out from between the walls. A man with a very hairy chest, short and black messy hair, and brown eyes slowly emerges. His white tank top, brown pants, suspenders, and green cardigan are covered in dust and dirt from inside the walls. The most noticeable thing on him is the dirty and cracked porcelain mask.

“Who is that?!” Greta cries out as Malcolm helps her up.

“It’s Brahms,” Malcolm says breathlessly from the shock and surprise.

“It can’t be…” Greta says, trailing off. Brahms had died in a fire after the brutal killing of Emily Cribbs. Brahms slowly tilts his head as he stares at you, before turning his attention to Cole. Cole slowly sits up, surrounded by the glass shards from the mirror. The explosion of glass had knocked him down among the pieces. Brahms suddenly launches himself at Cole, like a viper striking its prey. Malcolm gets in his way, shoving him back only to get hit in the head with a pipe. Brahms strikes him again, only this time in the legs to bring him down.

Just as quickly, he drops the pipe and launches himself onto Cole, his hands wrapped tightly around his neck. He straddles him as he pulls Cole up and slams him down a few times. Greta screams at him to stop and tries to get him off, only to get shoved away. You stand in the doorway, trying hard to process everything as it all happens quickly.  _ Brahms is alive. He’s been living in the walls all this time. He’s been watching you care for the doll and has most probably seen you undressed and in the shower. He is now out of the walls and is now striking Cole out of rage from him breaking the doll _ .

After processing all of that, you watch as Brahms holds Cole’s face down and reaches for a shard of the broken doll. “Brahms, no!” You screech out from your shock. Your scream does nothing as he stabs the doll shard deep in Cole’s neck. Greta starts to scream as Cole’s life starts to drain from him, just like the blood that drains from his neck. Brahms is undeterred and shoves it deeper into his neck.

Brahms slowly looks up as Cole bleeds out, staring at Greta before moving his attention to you. You’re shaking and your eyes are wide. Your breath comes in pants as you try to get ahold of yourself, but the shock is getting to you. Brahms springs up and grabs Greta as she tries to run, he starts to drag her towards you, making you back up. Before he can leave the room, Malcolm comes up behind him and hits him in the head with his own pipe.

Brahms falls down, loosening his hold on her. Malcolm helps Greta up who in turn, grabs your arm in a tight grip. Malcolm tugs Greta, who tugs you to follow them. You three run down the hall, only for Brahms to jump out from the darkness and in front of you. He stands there as you all flee up the stairs to try and escape him.

All three of you bust into a room, Greta grabbing a key and locking the door just as Brahms slams into it. He bangs on the door as Malcolm tries to open one of the windows to no avail. You stare at the doorknob, watching as it jiggles and turns. The door shakes more and the doorknob turns over and over again before it stops. You look down, watching as Brahams’s shadow disappeared to the left.

You listen to his footsteps in the walls as they go towards the closet. “The closet!” You yell out before running towards it. You slam into the door just as Brahms tries to open it. You close it tightly, holding it as Greta locks it. That does nothing as Brahms breaks the door open with one of his arms. Quickly, Malcolm grabs the rotary dial and slams it into his hand, making Brahms withdraw his hand.

Once more, the three of you flee into the hall just as Brahms goes back into the walls. Greta leads you all into another dark room, making Malcolm close and lock the door. She looks at an open space that leads into the walls. “We can get out this way,” She tells you and Malcolm. You nod quickly, letting them both in before you. Just as you enter, you hear Brahms break into the room. You hear him approach the opening as you, Greta, and Malcolm run down the wall passageway.

As you all try to go through the passageways, you slip and slam your head into one of the pipes. You let out a cry of pain and hold your head. By now, you’ve fallen way behind. Your vision is blurry and your head hurts. Greta and Malcolm have already gone down many twists and turns. You can barely see where you’re going before finding a well-lighted area.

Looking around, you see that it is a room filled with many different things. In a corner near a stairway, a bed sits there. Hanging from the ceiling of the room, you see many different traps and hooks, all related to taxidermy. Because of your vision, you don’t see the doll or the tissues next to it. You only see the traps and hooks because they are so close to your face. You some banging before Greta and Malcolm come it.

“[Redacted]! Where did you go? What happened?” Greta asks you, grabbing your arm tightly.

“Greta, everything’s blurry, I can’t see,” You tell her, her blurry face close to yours. Your head pounds, and though your vision is slowly getting better, it’s still not enough to help you navigate the walls without being slow. Greta looks past you and to the bed and dresser. She is tense and grabs the white blob on the dresser.

“Have you seen the doll on the bed?! Or the note, [Redacted]?! Have you?!” She cries out, holding, what you assume is, the letter. “She is yours, to… to hold and keep... and…” She can’t finish as she starts to slowly freak out.

It said she so you know it isn’t you. Or is it… because on the bed, a doll sits, clad in your stolen clothes. Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire were talking about Greta in the note since they were quite old-school, but Brahms, though he liked her at first, realized she wouldn’t be following the rules anytime soon. You had filled that role and now you were his obsession. Sadly, because of your poor vision at the time, pounding headache, and shock, you didn’t put the pieces together.

“They knew he was going to do this! He was watching us the whole time! He was… he...” Greta says, slowly hyperventilating and crying. Malcolm grabs her, helping her calm down enough to direct her to the passageways again. You follow them to the best of your abilities. Your eyesight is slowly coming back to normal. You can now see Greta and Malcolm, though a bit blurry, much better than them being blobs of color. You continue on behind them before Greta turns to look out between the wall. She jerks back as Brahms passes by. Before long, you hear something break before Brahms punches the wall, breaking it to get to you all. You all start down the passageway again, Brahms behind you. Though he’s a little ways behind you, it won’t be long before he catches up.

You all continue forwards until she goes towards a small crawl space with a door at the end. She crawls underneath the boards, with you and Malcolm stuck in the passageway. Malcolm is too large to fit and it doesn’t have enough room for two people to sit in there comfortably. Greta bangs on the door and tries to open it, making a lot of noise.

“[Redacted]?” You hear Brahms call out as he gets closer. Quickly, you jump over Malcolm, taking down the passageways again. You hear Greta and Malcolm call out to you, but you ignore them, knowing Brahms will be distracted and you can maybe gain Malcolm and Greta some time to get out. You can hear them both yelling at each other, realizing that because Malcolm can’t fit, he is going to buy Greta and you some time to escape.

You continue on, hearing Malcolm’s cries of pain as he’s beaten down by Brahms. It echos all around you in the basically empty house. You can hear Brahms grunting as he continues to beat Malcolm and Greta’s cries for him to stop. You turn into an empty room before hearing Greta’s cries of agony. Her cries make you realize that Brahms has probably killed Malcolm and is now killing Greta. You run out of the room and head down the stairs, heading for the front door. The moment you reach the door, you stop. You can hear Greta screaming and you tense up.

You quickly turn around and head back. “Brahms! Brahms, don’t hurt her!” You scream, running down the halls. By the time you enter another hall you’re panting and out of breath. You also don’t hear Greta’s cries or screams. Slowly, you go back between the walls through one of the holes Brahms made when trying to get you. You creep back to where you last saw Greta and Malcolm, only to see Malcolm on the ground, blood seeping out from the back of his head and not breathing. You peek into the little crawlspace, seeing Greta laying there on her side, also not breathing.

You start to shake, tears leaking from your eyes. You didn’t spend a lot of time with them, but you knew they were good people. Your hand shakes as you try to find a pulse on Malcolm, but come up with nothing. Slowly, you climb over Malcolm’s body and crawl towards Great’s. You check for her pulse, only to find it like Malcolm’s, no beat or movement. “[Redacted]?” You hear Brahms say. You freeze up and look behind you. Brahms is there, crouches near the opening of the crawlspace. You watch as he slowly and carefully creeps towards you. “[Redacted], come out.”

“I…  **I can’t** ,” You tell him, shuffling back towards Greta’s body. You feel your back hit the door and turn around, trying to open it. You shove against it and shake it, trying to open it.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” He tells you, slowly crawling towards you. You don’t turn around, continuing to slam against the door. You let out a loud sob as you realize it won’t open and it’s too late to turn back because Brahms is now right behind you. You freeze up, feeling Brahms’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you against him. The nose of his mask is buried on the top of your head and you can hear him smelling your hair.

You shake as Brahms slowly starts to drag you out from the crawlspace, away from Greta, away from Malcolm, and away from the false freedom. He slowly drags you back to his room, not the doll’s room, but  _ his  _ room, the one in the walls. His grip on you is tight as he drags you to his bed. He moves somethings off of the bed, throwing them over the edge near the end of his bed. Brahms sits down on his bed, dragging you into his lap. Slowly, he lays down and forces you to as well. He buries his masked face into your neck, letting out a sigh.

You turn to face him, trying to shove him away. His grip only tightens on you, making him mumble something incoherent. Brahms stares at you through his mask before saying “Goodnight kiss.” It is said with a childish voice. You shake your head in defiance, getting your arms to his chest, and try to push him away. His grip on you only tightens more. “Goodnight kiss,” he demands, his voice slowly getting deeper. When you refuse again, he twists your bodies to where you are under him and he is above you on his knees, staring you down. “Goodnight kiss,” He says again, only this time the childlike voice is gone and is replaced by a deep, raspy one, one that is of a man who will not take no as an answer.

You swallow the lump in your throat and lift up your head, and try placing your lips on the cheek on his mask only to have Brahms move his head so you’re kissing his porcelain lips. As you slowly place your head back down, he follows, making sure your lips are still placed on the mask’s lips. He deepens the kiss, holding your head in place as he forces the mask harder against your lips. He only lets go when you turn your face away.

He lowers his body to your side, bringing you close to him. You lay in his tight embrace, your face smooshed against his throat as his head lays on top of yours. All you can smell is sweat, dust, and an earthy undertone. You continue to lay there even after his breathing has evened out. It takes a little longer before you join him, the stress, fear, and exhaustion forcing your mind and body to shut down at last.


End file.
